Melody in the Sky
by Hazelle More
Summary: A collection of drabbles; various characters, various pairings.
1. A for Annabeth

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all the canon characters, places or whatever other details of the Camp Half-Blood series, not me. **

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**Title/Letter: **_A for Annabeth_  
**Rating: **K+  
**Characters/Pairings:** Annabeth, Percy; Percabeth  
**Prompt:** "Tell me..."  
**Word count: **560**  
**

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"Tell me, Percy," Annabeth spoke up after a long silence. "What did you first think when you first got back all you memories?"

They were walking along the bank of the River Tiber, a quiet afternoon stroll, just the two of them.

"Oh, me? That I wanted to wring di Angelo's neck into tiny, tiny knots for lying and telling me that he couldn't remember me."

"And?"

"Err, and that our carriage wouldn't break apart before reaching the Camp?"

She told herself that it was okay. "And..?"

"Hope the Porpoise giant wasn't going to kill me?"

"In regards to your memories?"

"Uhh… that I was glad to have them back. You have _no_ idea how it feels like to have a vacuum on your head. Major headache, that." He shook his head looking like he couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it either.

"Nothing else at all?"

"Umm, worried about what everyone in Camp Half-Blood was thinking?"

"You _better_ had worried about that. Eight months? You were gone for _eight months_, Percy Jackson!"

"Hey!" he held up his hands in surrender. "Don't blame me! Hera did it!"

She disregarded the protest and rounded up on him, blocking his path and glaring up at the son of Poseidon. Percy had gained another couple of inches within the absence, and there was something completely different about his physique as well. He wasn't wearing those ridiculous togas, just a regular t-shirt and slacks; but she couldn't help noticing that he seemed to have an aura of a king, a renewed aura of power now. He had matured even more since the battle last August. Annabeth disregarded (or tried to disregard) the fact, and looked straight into his eyes. It was like looking into the deep ocean, if the deep ocean was backing away before her glare in defense and trying to look like_ I'm-sorry-please-forgive-me-it's-not-my fault!_

"You remembered nothing else?"

"Err…"

She dropped her eyes and walked away. "I hate you, Seaweed Brain."

He ran up to her and pulled her back. They were right at the edge of the river, the water frothing and churning as if it was highly amused at the drama.

"I don't."

She looked away.

"Okay, wise girl," he said, looking every bit as a highly embarrassed sixteen-year old king should look like, "I know that you wanted to know if I remembered you… but…"

The daughter of Athena looked at something very distant in the horizon, pretending that she couldn't hear and didn't care. She had been caught in a constant worry for eight months, day-in and day-out, and he didn't even… even…

"…but I never forgot you, Annabeth. You were the only memory I had when I first woke up, the only person I could remember. You… you were the reason I didn't want to give up. I wanted to find you again. I… I knew that you were looking for me…"

He was _so_ cute when he was blushing.

Annabeth looked back at him, surprised and shocked. It was news to her; Percy had mentioned nothing like that at the meeting of camps.

"I... uhh…" he drifted off and grinned awkwardly. Annabeth did the only highly logical and sensible thing that fit the occasion, a decision worthy of Athena. She laughed and put her hands around him and kissed him, toppling them both into the river.

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_A/N: This just a lot of short drabbles, each written on a character whose name starts with the letter corresponding to the chapter number, from one to twenty-six/A-Z. Will portray many different ships and situations and blahblahblah as I like. :P _

_Did I mention that this one is also for the Project Phoenix's Word Prompt writing challenge? I just did! xD  
_

_Read, enjoy, and don't forget to review! :D_

_Next - B for Beckendorf.  
_

_Edit: Many thanks for **Silver Moon Huntress** for the correction. Thank you! :) Yes, it was a tiny slip in my part; I stand humbly corrected. o3o  
_


	2. B for Beckendorf

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all the canon characters, places or whatever other details of the Camp Half-Blood series, not me. **

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**Title/Letter: **_B for Beckendorf_  
**Rating: **K+  
**Characters/Pairings:** Charles Beckendorf; Beckendorf/Silena  
**Prompt:** "Never say..."  
**Word count: **510**  
**

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Never say that the death is the end of life.

It was so easy. Just a small wink and a casual jab at the button that would claim his life. His life, as well as those of a hundred other enemies. Would it destroy the two that mattered most? No, he knew that it wouldn't. Yet this was his destiny. This was the destiny of every hero. He had chosen it, and he didn't regret.

At the last second, he even remembered to smile, to laugh, to take a last breath and close his eyes, locking his mind on the victory, on her. Death in battlefield was honorable. His death was not in vain. It would buy the remaining heroes a few more hours, perhaps a day or two. It would cost the enemies a valuable battalion. His family and friends would grieve, but they would be proud. He was proud.

At the end, it was so much easier that he had imagined.

The heat, the fire, the blast. Thinking about it, he didn't think he even felt it, he was already far beyond pain. He was already among the countless heroes and heroines from the times unknown who had passed on to give the living a better world. He was born to be a hero, and he died as one. He was already far away from the cursed ship, already sailing down in another river before he knew it. It all passed in a blur. He was on Elysian fields.

So quick, so simple. So fragile.

But he waited at the entrance, knowing that it wouldn't be long before she arrived. He knew that it was inevitable. Nobody wanted it, at the very least himself, but he knew that it would happen. He knew so much better now. So many things suddenly made sense, both good and bad. He saw the choices and reasons behind. And he had already forgiven them.

He waited, and he didn't have to wait long. He might have felt it as a long time, for though life was fragile and finite, death was not. For him, death was infinite; at least as long as he choose it to be. For him, time stretched to inifinity. He awaited her, and he didn't have to wait long.

Her judgment was longer than his, but he heard nothing of it. He had no eyes, no ears, no senses, except anything except for her. If she was beautiful in life, it compared to nothing for what she was now. He was neither a poet nor artist, but he knew he would have failed if he had any talent. There was nothing that could match up to what was pure beauty, adorned with bravery and sacrifice. She was the daughter of her mother in beauty, and so much more on her own. She was a heroine.

When she turned to face him at last, there was no mortal language that could describe her smile.

No. Death is never the end of life.

For him, it was only the beginning.

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_A/N: Ditto, ditto. Enjoy, R&R! :)_

_Next, C for Conner. (The horror! O_O)  
_


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